Symmetrical Attraction

Chapter 1: Meister?

Your POV

It's difficult to count how many different schools I've had to go to. There were some where it only took me a day to get kicked out. Not because I was bad or anything, I just had no clue what was going on with myself.

*****

"THEY HAVE A KNIFE!"

It wasn't anything I hadn't heard before. I drop them from each of my hands, the small daggers making no sound even as they hit the edge of a desk.

"(y/n), why would you bring something like that into class?" My teacher asks, but is afraid to approach me.

"I didn't! I swear!" No one ever believed me, even though it was true. Where did they come from? What were they made of? After all, they hadn't been able to hurt anyone. I would hide them in my pockets when they would show up, but if I let them go, they'd fall right through. They never left a cut in my pocket, and never hurt anyone I would accidentally scrape. I always kept my hands on them until they would go away. Sometimes I'd go the whole school day, unable to participate in classes by raising my hand or writing or playing or anything. All because of these stupid...stupid ghost knives!

After switching through 4 schools, I finally noticed the slight pattern. They would show up when kids would talk about their families. Though, I never had issues with my family. My parents were kind and surprisingly 'understanding' with this whole knife situation—even though there wasn't much to understand. My sister was nice to me as well. She was a lot older and had moved on a bit but she still kept in touch from time-to-time.

So why do these knives keep coming up when people talk about their families? And why did they pick me to wield them? Why are they here and why are they ruining my life?!!

Eventually, my mom had dug deep enough on the internet and found a school that might let me stay.
The DWMA, Death Weapon Meister Academy. My first guess was 'Dumb Weird Moron Academy', close enough.

"Apparently people from all over the world go, I'm sure they get new students all the time!" My mom tells me.

"Ones who summon phantom daggers by accident???"

"I think some of them might be daggers,"

"Huh?" I was confused at her statement.

"It's a very normal thing in...a lot of places. Somehow we've just become so separate from the world that we don't know about it. They can help you, I promise."

"I don't want to go to another school, mom! All they do is-"

"It will be different, sweetie. Go pack some things, you'll be staying in your own dorm provided by the school. I'll come help you pack in a minute." She began to walk off but I didn't let her.

"Wait! Pack? You mean like, I'm going soon?"

"This Saturday we'll be moving you in."

(a/n: you can envision the daggers however you'd like, I included an image of you need help)